


The Soul of the Serpent

by Ruusverd



Series: Echoes of the Fall AU [28]
Category: Echoes of the Fall - Adrian Tchaikovsky, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruusverd/pseuds/Ruusverd
Summary: Geralt and Yennefer have their talk. Geralt uncovers something he didn't know he was still mad about, and Yennefer explains why she didn't tell him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Echoes of the Fall AU [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863010
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	The Soul of the Serpent

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a lot more about Visenna, but it... went a different direction. Oh well. The rules about Snakes not having kids with other tribes is my headcanon, and therefore their attitude and likely response towards such a child is my headcanon as well, but it doesn’t contradict the books either. The Snake people having a birthrate well below replacement level even for semi-immortals and a very high median age is stated canon.
> 
> It’s probably not historically accurate for a vaguely- Mesoamerican priestess to use wax writing tablets, but it’s also not historically accurate for vaguely- Mesoamerican warriors to turn into literal crocodiles, so I’m not going to worry about it.

The next morning Yennefer collected a candle, a stylus, and one of the wax tablets she used to teach Ciri, and commandeered one of the uninhabited longhouses so she and Geralt could talk without fearing interruption. She gave strict instructions to the others that the two of them were not to be disturbed unless the village was on fire, and in that case do please try to put it out yourselves first. Geralt could see everyone dramatically misinterpreting why the couple needed such privacy, but let them believe whatever they wanted. It would reduce the risk of anyone trying to intrude or eavesdrop, if nothing else.

They sat down on the longhouse floor, then looked at each other awkwardly, neither knowing how to begin. Geralt had been trying to prepare what he wanted to say over the last few days of travel, but now everything he’d rehearsed had flown away.

He hadn’t lied when they’d ‘spoken’ before. He truly was upset that he’d been worrying over the question of his rebirth for years with incomplete information, but he felt he was _too_ upset for it to be only about that. The knowledge of his snake soul had given him a whole new set of possibilities to consider, but neither of them could know with certainty what would happen until the bond was actually tested by death, and he wasn’t in any hurry to face that test.

“My mother was always a secret,” he blurted out, then frowned at himself. Whatever he’d planned to say, that wasn’t it.

“I know,” Yennefer said, looking like she wasn’t sure where he was going with that opening but was willing to wait and listen.

“No, I mean she was secret even from me. I knew my father was Korin Stone Ravine, that he was killed by the Tiger around the time I was born. I didn’t know him, but I knew hunters who did. All I knew of my mother was that she left me with his tribe, either not knowing or not caring that he was dead.” Geralt rubbed his face with his hand, suddenly realizing where the disproportionate distress over Yennefer’s silence had come from. “I knew she didn’t belong to our tribe, but I thought maybe I was the result of a tryst between two hunters who couldn’t share a hearth. I didn’t know she wasn’t a Wolf at all until my souls came.”

“… and you suddenly were confronted by a snake soul you hadn’t known about, because Vesemir hadn’t told you,” Yennefer closed her eyes and shook her head, as she reached the same conclusion Geralt had. She didn’t rush to apologize again, and Geralt didn’t expect her to. Visenna, along with Yennefer’s first life, belonged in the box of things they’d long ago agreed not to discuss. She had already apologized for keeping information from him that he had a right to know, she didn’t need to apologize for reopening a wound she hadn’t known existed. Even Geralt hadn’t realized the wound was there until he said it out loud.

Geralt’s voice abandoned him, and he picked up the wax tablet and stylus. _I don’t know_ _if_ _Vesemir knew_ _much_ _about her, but he_ _only told me_ _her name. He didn’t want to tell me even that_ _much_ _, but I wouldn’t stop hounding him until he_ _told me_ _something_ _._ _He drove the s_ _erpent_ _out of me—or thought he did—as quickl_ _y_ _as he could, and then_ _acted_ _like it had never_ _been there_ _._ He paused, tapping the frame with the stylus in thought. _It hurt, but_ _then_ _it was_ _gone_ _and done with_ _and I didn’t have to think about it. And now it_ _isn’t_ _gone_ _and I don’t know what to_ _think or_ _do_ _._

“I can help you try to connect with your serpent,” Yennefer offered, after studying the tablet thoughtfully for a while. “So you could feel it again, and Step that way if you had to.”

Geralt thought about it, wondering what it would be like after so long, then shook his head. _Maybe someday_ _,_ _but n_ _ot now._ _I n_ _eed_ _to think about it_ _more_ _._

He thought he would accept her offer eventually, but he wasn’t ready yet. He hadn’t Stepped to the Serpent since he was a boy, and only a few times even then. As an adult Geralt understood, at least somewhat,why Vesemir had punished him so harshly when he’d caught him Stepping to his mother’s shape, and why he’d been forced to give it up so quickly. Children of two souls were often viewed with suspicion, particularly before they’d made their choice. Even those like Ciri, who’d cut off the souls she was born with and chosen the Wolf, were more readily accepted.

Geralt had kept the secret even after the Testing had proved him to be a true Wolf. Bad enough if his mother had been a Deer or Boar thrall as Jaskier had once guessed, but his mother had been something altogether foreign. Given his unusual appearance and his choice to live as a lone wolf, the tribes didn’t need any more reason to see him as something Other.But knowing that Vesemir had been trying in his own way to protect him didn’t make the memoryof his harsh treatmentany less sharp.

“That’s wise. Take all the time you need, the offer stands.” Yennefer said, using the candle flame to soften the wax and smoothing out the writing. She stared at the blank slate for a moment, running her fingers over the frame. Geralt waited for her to gather her thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you about the snake soul for all the reasons I said before. The topic was clearly upsetting to you and I didn’t think it necessary for you to know. You were upset with _how_ your choice was made, but you never seemed to regret the choice itself, and the few times you spoke of your mother it didn’t sound like you wanted anything to do with her, let alone the soul she gave you.”

“And the reason that was too long to write?” Geralt prompted, his speech coming back for the moment.

“The longer reason involves the Snake priesthood itself. You’re something unique, something even the temple has no record of, and believe me I looked. I don’t know how the others would react if they found out what you are, but I don’t think it would be pleasant for you.”

Geralt frowned, “Because you’re not supposed to have children outside your kind? Visenna can’t be the only Snake who ever had a child with someone she wasn’t supposed to.”

Yennefer shook her head. “I’m sure she wasn’t, but you don’t understand. When I say there's no record, I mean that if another twin-souled child ever chose their other parent’s totem over the Serpent as you did, they were only able to do so because the priesthood didn’t find out about them. Therefore no one recorded anything about their souls, because no one knew there was anything noteworthy to record. If another like you ever exists in the future, _they_ won’t find any records to guide them either, because nothing will have been written about your souls.

“The world isn’t kind to those caught betwixt and between. If Visenna had left you to the Serpents instead of your father's people, they wouldn’t have given you a choice any more than the Wolves did. They would have forced you to cut your wolf away, you would have succeeded, and that would have been the end of it. Births for us are very few and far between, and each child that is born might live a hundred lifetimes, so the few we have are valuable and their upbringing carefully managed. If they’d known about your snake soul they would have wanted you raised properly in the temples.”

Geralt tried to picture himself as a Snake priest, with rainbow scales painted across his face and a cloth wrapped around his head, subtly and quietly helping to guide the course of a nation in accordance with some complex, long-term strategy. He failed. “I would have been an _awful_ priest,” he said emphatically.

Yennefer’s face twitched in a way Geralt couldn’t quite interpret. “These things are known: you would have had a connection to the Serpent deeper and clearer than any other’s, and you would have been so outrageously unconventional about it you would have driven them all mad,”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, not sure if that was a compliment or an insult but strongly suspecting that she was trying not to laugh.

“Even in an ideal world with no one compelling your choice,” Yennefer continued, setting aside her hidden amusement and moving back to the topic at hand, “if your second soul had been anything other than a serpent you would have _had_ to cut one away or they would have fought each other and destroyed you. There’s no record of _any_ child born with two souls carrying both into adulthood, let alone a child of the Serpent.”

“And you think the priesthood would do something to me if they found out about my snake soul, even now?” Geralt tried to connect this information to why Yennefer had kept quiet about his soul.

“I do,” Yennefer said firmly. “It’s rare for someone to change their soul like Ciri did, but even then you’re one thing or another, not two at the same time. The Serpent’s children don’t even have that much choice, if you’re born in the Serpent’s Coils you _can’t_ become anything else. Someone who carried two souls from any other tribes into adulthood would generate curiosity, but someone who carried both a Serpent’s soul and a ‘lesser’ soul together… I fear they would call it unnatural, even though there wasn’t anything unnatural about it. It would make a lot of very old, very powerful people _very_ unhappy. I don’t know what they would _do_ about it, but it didn’t seem worth the risk of finding out.”

“I’m hardly a child now,” Geralt pointed out. “They couldn’t make a Snake priest of me at this point, even if they wanted to.”

“Compared to some, you aren’t much more than a child. Some of the older Serpents don’t even remember how many lives they’ve lived; from their perspective, someone on their first life could hardly be considered old enough to make their own decisions,” Yennefer’s voice turned bitter, and Geralt wondered if they were still talking about him.

Geralt simply nodded, deciding not to press. “I understand why it had to be a secret from everyone else, but it shouldn’t have been a secret from me. I had a right to know.”

“I should have told you,” Yennefer acknowledged. “If not in Atahlan while we lived in the temple, then afterwards. But then there was Ciri, and keeping her safe took precedence. And by the time we were settled it had been so long I’d almost forgotten about it myself. I didn’t see any reason to bring it up.”

Geralt nodded again, letting the last of his anger slip away. “Is there anything else I should know about myself?” he asked, half-smiling so she’d know it wasn’t an accusation.

Yennefer hummed. “Nothing concrete that I can think of at the moment. You do know you’re going to have to talk to Ciri too, don’t you?”

Geralt made a face but nodded.

“Good. I’ve talked to her about some of what happened at the Stone Place, but there are things she’s not telling me that she might be more willing to tell you. And some things you would simply understand and relate to better.”

“I know.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, the unnaturally pointed teeth scraping against the inside of his mouth. “Did she say anything about the Kasra?”

“Not much, but enough for me to put the most important part of it together for myself,” Yennefer said grimly. “You’re going to have to talk to her about _that,_ definitely. I assume Emhyr told you of his relation to Ciri when you spoke to him?”

Geralt told her everything the Kasra had said, resorting to the wax tablet and stylus whenever his words failed, not wanting to risk leaving anything out or being misunderstood.

“Well. I’m starting to wish Vilgefortz had just _bitten_ Emhyr instead of trying to stab him, but I imagine he didn’t want to sink his fangs into hollow flesh,” Yennefer said when he finished. “I’m highly annoyed Emhyr managed to hide his true intentions for so long, but at least he won’t cause us any further trouble.”

“You’re sure he won’t?” Geralt asked.

“Positive. Kasras rarely leave Atahlan, but there’s a difference between a ruler who _doesn’t_ leave the capital and one who _can’t._ He’ll be too busy keeping himself alive to worry about anything more ambitious than that. Besides, Ciri’s cut her crocodile away. He’d never be able to prove she was his child by blood, and even if he did she wouldn’t be qualified to be his heir. I don’t know how he ever thought she would be accepted by the river to begin with.”

“I’ll trust your judgment on that.”

“Please do, I’m an expert. Or I’m supposed to be.” Yennefer hissed through her teeth irritably. “It’s going to bother me for _ages_ that Emhyr managed to fool me,” she repeated.

“No point in chewing old bones once the marrow’s gone,” Geralt said philosophically.

“That doesn’t stop any Wolf I’ve ever known from doing so,” Yennefer countered wryly, “if I’m interpreting that metaphor correctly.”

Sensing the weighty part of their discussion was over, they reclined and spoke of other things. Of Cahir’s caiman, which had finally felt safe enough to reappear that morning, of Ciri’s training, and of course it was never too early to talk of what needed to be obtained or built or repaired before winter. When Geralt’s voice started to crack they didn’t bother to reach for the stylus and tablet, they simply lay together without words, enjoying the uncommon luxury of uninterrupted privacy.

**Author's Note:**

> It is canon that the Serpent is by far the most powerful and benevolent of the gods, and the Snake priests are a positive influence that brought much knowledge and advancement to the Tsotec and built the Sun River Nation. However there's also a scene in the books where a priestess 100% seriously says to a small group of her fellow priests that in hindsight they should have strangled one of the Kasra’s twin children at birth to prevent a war over the succession, and the author makes a point of emphasizing *twice* during that scene that the suggestion of murdering politically inconvenient children elicits neither surprise nor disagreement from any of them because it would have been, in much more flowery terms, the lesser evil. So. There's that side of the priesthood too.


End file.
